


gimme gimme

by violinbee



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Anal Sex, Bartender Kwon Soonyoung, Belly Buldges, Blow Jobs, First Meetings, Jeon Wonwoo is a Sweetheart, M/M, New York City, One Night Stands, Or Is It?, Photographer Jeon Wonwoo, Porn With Plot, also worth noting cameras make it into the bedroom, eat the rich, especially if they're sexy;), obnoxiously atmospheric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violinbee/pseuds/violinbee
Summary: In a city where everything is beginning to feel artificial, there is nothing more intenselyrealthan Wonwoo’s skin against his.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	gimme gimme

Manhattan, New York City. 

Infamous and inescapable, the focal point of struggling artists and drunk college students alike. Soonyoung, for one, thinks it’s all bullshit. 

A glamorous establishment can only dazzle for so long. New York is a city of dreams until you notice the litter. From the tourist traps that plague Times Square to the dirty sidewalks to the overpriced groceries.

In terms of dreams, this wasn’t exactly Soonyoung’s. He hadn’t moved with mixology in mind but it’s the cocktail he spun himself up. A couple connections later, he’s tending in one of the hottest nightclubs in Manhattan. 

Boredom is simply a side effect.

The Diamond Lounge is branded as exclusive, primarily catering to wealthy businessmen with mistresses in one pocket and various politicians in the other. They’d get the occasional producers, entertainment industry folk. On an interesting night, an A-lister or two. These high-end guests were usually whisked off and away to the Caratzone, the bar Soonyoung happened to tend.

All of this was a game, really, and Soonyoung had mastered it. 

He knows how to swing his hips, bat his eyelashes, giggle and charm. He knows what these people pay for and he will tango whatever tango it takes if it means his pocket is that much more full at the end of the night. 

Cheap? Sure. But it’s survival, Soonyoung thinks. 

As luxurious as catering to rich assholes and drinking for free in one of the hottest cities and popular establishments sounds, the cigars evoke less jealousy and more nausea. The absurdly priced wine is too dry, too sweet. The various cocktails are obnoxiously complex and even more alcoholic. For a bartender, Soonyoung is partial to simplicity. 

His glass of moscato sits to the side, untouched.

—————————–

_Mix, shake, strain._ Soonyoung cleans the rim of both glasses before sliding the drinks onto the server station.

This evening had been no different from the others. Sure, he had clocked in a couple minutes late but aside from that, the customer flow had been steady and predictable. As a result, this gave time for other distractions. 

Soonyoung had dealt with his fair share of rich, flirty strangers but none of them had been quite as pretty as this one. There was something about the way he licked the rim of his glass, the lazy, interested glances he cast the bartender’s way. 

There was an air of confidence to him that only came with either status or age. The latter is easy to dismiss; though the stranger is dressed in a buttoned, maroon suit, old-fashioned and professional, his features give away that he can’t be much older than Soonyoung. The mellow lighting bleeds into neat, dark hair, casting a shadow over his sharp cheekbones and his gaze is intense even over the silver glasses perched atop his nose, burning into Soonyoung’s skin.

Single malt scotch, he recalls. Interesting. 

“I’ll bet if you stare harder, his clothes will fall off.” 

Soonyoung jumps, almost breaking the flute he’d forgotten he was holding. He shoots the dirtiest glare he can muster at a grinning Seungkwan, grabbing and setting down 2 glasses of wine — sauv blancs for the obnoxious lady at table 5 and her uncomfortable looking son, he mentally notes — atop the awaiting tray. 

“If I took a shot for every unnecessary comment you make, I’d be dead,” Soonyoung says, earning him a cackle from the younger, “How’s it looking out there?”

Seungkwan shrugs, “As good as it’ll get on a Wednesday,” but then he’s smiling again, “Why? Trying to get off early?”

“Piss off, I need the tips more than anything else,” and the look Seungkwan gives him has him scrambling to defend himself, “I _do_.”

“Sure you do, princess. By the way, tall, dark, and handsome seems to need your attention.” 

Before Soonyoung can respond, Seungkwan is whisking off and away with the drinks, something just short of mischief on his face. He turns his attention to _tall, dark, and handsome_ as Seungkwan had so eloquently put it and catches the man waving him over. 

Why Soonyoung is so enticed, it’s hard to tell but on instinct, he abides. If his heart seems to be beating a little faster, he blames it on the kahlua from a few hours prior. 

Though he’d spoken to the man earlier, their interaction had been brief. Being this close to him again, Soonyoung notes that he’s barely made a dent in his drink. It makes him all the more curious.

“So… a whiskey guy, huh?” he jokes. 

The man looks surprised, almost as though he hadn’t been expecting a comment, before his expression is shifting to one of amusement, “You could say that. Maybe I’m just pretending to be a whiskey guy.” 

That explains it. Soonyoung makes a brief mental note that he’s definitely not from around here, if his accent is any indication. Not that he minds, of course — he’s in the same proverbial boat. 

“And why is that?”

The stranger gives a nod in the direction of the other guests sitting at the bar. 

“Oh wow, look at you,” Soonyoung croons with a little grin before crossing his arms, “Don’t let our clientele rub off on you, that’d be a real shame.” 

“And why is that?”

Maybe he’s feeling a little brave when he says, “Because you’re different, no?” 

A hum, “You tell me.” 

A fleeting, knowing smile is shared between the two.

“What can I get you?” 

“Two of whatever it is you’re drinking.” 

Now, Soonyoung has heard this line a million times. So many times, in fact, that he typically has to physically hold back an eye-roll. This time however, for whatever reason, his cheeks feel oddly warm. He regathers himself quickly and stands a little straighter. The stranger’s eyes slide up and down his form before catching his own. Like a challenge. 

And damn it, when is Soonyoung not up for a good challenge?

He brings back two glasses of the most expensive red they have. 

The stranger immediately brings the glass to his nose, eyes never leaving Soonyoung’s as he swirls the wine. He then raises an eyebrow before smirking, “Bordeaux?”

Soonyoung tries to hide that he’s impressed, “You know your wines.” 

“I also know a bottle of this stuff costs more than a month's wage for most people in this city,” the other says, “and that this place has marked it up to shit.” 

“You caught me,” Soonyoung grins and leans forward, raising his glass, “To this city’s finest and most delicious scams.” 

_Tall, dark, and handsome_ meets Soonyoung in the middle, “And the pretty strangers we meet along the way.” 

The metal of the stranger’s cufflinks catches in the light and Soonyoung feels his stomach begin to knot. Wealth has never impressed Soonyoung — he’s been in this industry far too long for flashy things to make him swoon. However, that doesn’t make him immune to poise and charm. Sweet-talkers are unavoidable but there’s something downright sexy about unpredictability. 

“To whom do I owe this pleasure?” Soonyoung prods after letting the smooth liquid slide down his throat, making him feel warm, “Fine wine and pleasant conversation that is.” 

The stranger almost looks to pause before he’s speaking, smooth and easy, “Wonwoo.”

“Soonyoung. What is it that you do, _Wonwoo_?” the bartender drawls, “How’d a guy like you end up in a place like this?” 

Soonyoung vaguely registers that he has essentially abandoned post but the lack of business paired with his general enjoyment of getting on Jihoons nerves keeps him glued to his spot. Besides, this is the most fun he’s had in 3 months. He cuts himself a little slack. 

“Photography, originally journalistic but now I have fun with it,” Wonwoo replies, “I guess you could say I look at pretty things for a living.” 

A breath is passed between them before Soonyoung is speaking, “I think you can give yourself more credit than that. You don’t just look at pretty things, you… _capture_ them.”

“Something along those lines, yes,” Wonwoo looks thoughtful, “It’s funny you say that — a friend of mine once said photography is the closest a person gets to commanding time.” 

“And is that what you’re trying to do?” Soonyoung asks as he brings the glass to his lips, “Command time?” 

“Sure. That or I enjoy dicking around with a camera.” 

Soonyoung finds himself genuinely laughing, any predispositions that were left melting away slowly, “Well, you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“The photos or the camera?”

“Either or.” 

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Wonwoo says, “What time are you off tonight?”

Right to the point. Soonyoung is a grown man and yet he still feels his cheeks heating at the forwardness of the question. Not that directness is a deal-breaker, in fact, Soonyoung would much rather cut to the chase than allow a conversational chess game to drag on. He catches the time in his peripheral. 

“Are you okay to drink for a couple more hours? Enjoy the high life while I finish up my measly shift?” Soonyoung purrs, his response sealing the deal in itself. 

Wonwoo nods once, the corners of his lips twitching, “I’ll be here, admiring the art.” 

“I’m counting on it.”

—————————–

The shift ends up being one of the longest Soonyoung has ever had to deal with in his entire career. The minimal business paired with his ever-growing impatience and Wonwoo’s watchful eyes have him mentally willing the clock to tick by faster.

Even when he’s finally ringing the handsome stranger up, they don’t exchange many more words, only knowing, anticipatory glances. When the shift comes to a close, he notices Wonwoo is no longer in his seat. As he goes to clean up, he catches sight of a black business card placed atop the signed receipt and upon closer inspection, he makes out a phone number and name in white script. _Jeon Wonwoo_. There’s also a hefty tip and a little smiley face scrawled above a messy signature. 

Soonyoung snorts and sets the receipt aside before carefully tucking the business card into his pocket. Not that he would ever look at it again. No, these sorts of encounters remained brief. 

Safekeeping or something. 

Once he’s clocked out and tucked away in a coat and scarf, he bids his farewells to Seungkwan who makes him promise to text the next morning. He worries for a moment that the stranger has left but his worries are put to rest when he sees the man in question lingering by the door to the lounge. He’s wearing a hat and a long, brown overcoat. 

The door is held open for Soonyoung. From there, they walk to the subway. 

_“You live in Tribeca and you have a MetroCard?” Soonyoung had asked._

_Wonwoo just raises his eyebrow as if it wasn’t at all ridiculous, “Well, how else would I get home?”_

Even in brief, relatively shallow interactions, in minimal conversation, Soonyoung finds himself utterly intrigued. He’s not one to doubt himself; he’s secure with who and where he is but somehow still, there’s nervousness. This is not because of Wonwoo’s presence but because he worries he may do something that comes off as anything less than proper. 

Soonyoung, who is so used to comfort in solitude, wants to impress for the first time in a long time.

—————————–

_Ding!_

The elevator doors slide open to reveal a short corridor. Soonyoung notices a shoe rack in the wall, an assortment of boots and sneakers shoved messily onto little shelves. After kicking off his own shoes, Wonwoo gestures for Soonyoung to go ahead. He isn’t able to make out much until there’s a click from behind him, bringing the lights to life. 

Even this feels too personal, taking a look directly into someone’s world. 

Wonwoo’s apartment is rustic and clearly lived-in. The walls are brick and decorated with what appear to be framed, meticulously organized photographs. Framing the space are two, arching windows overlooking the industrial buildings that decorate the now quiet streets. In the living room, there’s a large oak coffee table and couch atop a patchwork rug all situated front of a fashionable fireplace. Lining the walls are bookshelves, filled with what Soonyoung can only assume to be haphazardly stacked novels and encyclopedias. On either side of the couch, there is a lamp and a cat tree.

Soonyoung wonders where the cat is.

“Pardon the mess,” comes the sheepish voice from behind him, “I didn’t think I’d have company.” 

“You’ve managed to make messy look stylish, no worries,” Soonyoung says, finally turning toward his host. 

Wonwoo grants him a chuckle before he’s continuing, “You can go ahead and toss your coat on the couch. I’d offer a more interesting drink but I think we’ve had plenty of that tonight — tea or coffee?” 

Soonyoung has never had a hook-up offer him tea but he finds it almost sweet that Wonwoo would. Because of course he would. Regardless, he’s less interested in the caffeine and more interested in the one offering it and he makes sure it’s clear, “As much as I’d love something to drink, I’d love even more if you would show me how these fancy cameras work.” 

Atop the coffee table are what appears to be four different cameras, two partially cased and the others lying atop a heap of photographs, seemingly holding them in place. Wonwoo lays his coat and suit jacket over a loveseat — underneath is a silk button-up tucked into fitted slacks. He then proceeds to undo his cuffs and roll up his sleeves, letting them bunch at his forearms before circling the couch to turn on the lamp. Soonyoung mentally wills himself not to stare. 

“The ones in the cases don’t work,” Wonwoo says with a little huff, “They did but not anymore. The other ones though—” he picks one up and looks down at it with something that can only be described as something akin fondness, “These ones are still kicking. This one here actually came out in the mid-70s. This old friend still uses 35mm film, believe it or not. Finding ways to develop this shit is a bitch and a half though.” 

There’s a mini tool-kit by the cases, Soonyoung now notices. The image of Wonwoo fiddling with the delicate parts of an ancient camera over a candle-lit table, glasses pushed back up into mussed dark hair, for some reason, is what makes Soonyoung grow bold.

“Bring one of them.”

Wonwoo looks up from the device in his hands, tilting his head to the side slightly in confusion. 

“To the bedroom,” Soonyoung quickly clarifies, cheeks warming as his voice grows a little quieter, “The cameras that is.” 

“You’d be okay with that?” Wonwoo sounds genuinely surprised and maybe even a little hopeful, eyes noticeably darkening even in the minimal light. 

Soonyoung is not a reckless person. Sure, he’s excitable sometimes, maybe even a little loud, but he’s not an idiot. It’s not like him to trust a stranger on a whim like this — hell, one night stands aren’t very like him to begin with. Much less with anybody he meets at work. However, something about Wonwoo makes him feel _dangerous_. It’s Wonwoo that creates within him the capacity to do something a little crazy. A little stupid. 

“More than okay,” he says without a second’s hesitation, “Granted it stays between us?”

“My eyes only,” Wonwoo promises, “And yours if you want them, of course.” 

And that’s all the affirmation Soonyoung needs, “Then snap away, camera man.” 

“I…” Wonwoo doesn’t complete his thought. He only searches Soonyoung’s face, most likely for any hesitation which there is none before he’s saying, “The bedroom at the end of the hall that way. Let me get… something better to work with.” 

Soonyoung, ever so obedient, nods once. When he arrives, he notices Wonwoo’s door is open just a crack and pushes it the rest of the way. That’s when he hears a soft mew and a little bell jingle as a black ball of fur hops up and out of a laundry basket, giving him a little sniff and head-butt before sliding past him and out of the bedroom. So there’s the cat.

He feels around for a light-switch before giving the room a once-over, noting the little potted plants that sit on the windowsill and the old cup of tea on the nightstand. Like the rest of Wonwoo’s apparently monochromatic apartment, the room is colored in various shades of beige and brown. Soonyoung decides he likes it; the entire place gives off this distinct feeling of _home_.

Slowly, almost as though he’s trying not to disturb the peace, he sits atop Wonwoo’s dark duvet, leaning back onto his forearms. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Perhaps he’s a little too eager to be doted on — Soonyoung is nothing if not a show-off.

Wonwoo appears a few moments later with a small camera in hand, pausing in the doorway when he catches sight of Soonyoung. The other doesn’t have to say anything, the way he smirks is enough, “You look good. Photo-ready.”

The top couple buttons of Wonwoo’s shirt are undone and he’s set his glasses on the dresser. Jesus. 

“Then get on with it.”

Wonwoo takes on the challenge, “Take off your shirt.”

The instruction goes straight to his core. Half of Wonwoo’s face is obscured by the camera as those clever fingers fiddle with the buttons and lens. It’s almost impersonal, standing in stark contrast to everything that had happened leading up to this point.

Soonyoung is quick to obey, slowly raising his hands to his collar and undoing the first button, and then the second, and then the third. If he’s trembling, Wonwoo doesn’t comment on it. As his top begins to fall open, exposing his collarbones and then his chest, there’s a _click_ and then a flash. It momentarily disorients him, his vision spotting before readjusting. There’s a soft apology from Wonwoo. He pouts. 

“Flash is going off. Keep going, please?” Wonwoo lowers the camera briefly and the way he looks at Soonyoung could almost be described as _cute_. 

“Only because you asked nicely.”

And then Soonyoung is undoing the last few buttons on his white shirt, making no move to fully remove the item of clothing and letting the fabric hang loosely. _Click_! He proceeds to undo his pants, lifting his hips and shimmying them off, leaving him only in tented boxers. Now that he’s almost naked, he’s hyper-aware of the fact that Wonwoo is not.

Up until this point, Wonwoo had been keeping his distance, focused entirely on the shot. It’s only when Soonyoung whines softly, small fingers digging into the sheets, that Wonwoo finally takes a step toward the foot of the bed. Soonyoung, on instinct, spreads his legs, making space for the taller man as he situates himself between them. He’s so close and, oh god, he smells _so_ good and Soonyoung’s head may be spinning just a little.

When Wonwoo brings his free hand up to Soonyoung’s hair, carding his fingers through the soft black curls, Soonyoung can’t help but lean into the touch. His skin is prickling with a need for anything. Anything at all, be it comfort or pain. 

In a city where everything is beginning to feel artificial, there is nothing more intensely _real_ than Wonwoo’s skin against his.

This may be the strangest foreplay Soonyoung has ever had the honor of taking part in. _To the pretty strangers we meet along the way_ is right, he thinks. 

The grip on his hair tightens, drawing out a soft gasp as his eyes flutter shut. _Click!_ Then, Wonwoo is sliding his palm down and over his cheek then chin, thumb dragging against Soonyoung’s jawline before pressing at his lower lip. There’s little resistance as Soonyoung lets his mouth fall open, curling his tongue around the digit. His eyes are open, half lidded and glazed over, but open. _Click!_

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” comes the voice from above him, gravelly and a little breathless. Soonyoung hums around the finger before Wonwoo draws it back and gives out another instruction, “Lay back for me, princess.” 

The pet-name is oddly reminiscent of Seungkwan’s earlier words so why does it sound so good coming from Wonwoo’s mouth? 

Soonyoung shifts up and lies back. Prior to this, he hadn’t attributed much to his nakedness but laying in front of Wonwoo, spread out and vulnerable, he can’t help but shyly avert his gaze. _Click!_ Wonwoo joins Soonyoung on the bed, kneeling between his legs. He lets the camera hang around his neck momentarily, dropping his hands to Soonyoung’s hips before slipping down to his thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. It’s almost like he’s making sure Soonyoung is really there.

“Please, kiss me,” Soonyoung whispers, thinly veiled desperation coating every syllable, “Or do something. Anything. Please.” 

Wonwoo laughs softly as he finally leans down, “Impatient, are we?”

The camera is resting heavily against Soonyoung’s abdomen, the metal startlingly cold against his heated skin. How could he not be impatient when Wonwoo is right here touching him like this and looking the way he does? Soonyoung is a mere man, susceptible to interest and intrigue as everyone else is, and Wonwoo is at the center of his attention.

When the other is close enough to touch, Soonyoung gently pulls at his shirt, untucking it before taking his clumsy hands to the remaining buttons. Pesky bastards. Wonwoo is laughing again, the sound being a low rumble in his chest. 

“Stop, I can’t undo these if you’re shaking,” Soonyoung whines as his fingers fumble. 

He doesn’t get to struggle for much longer, hands flattening against Wonwoo’s chest as his lips are captured roughly in a heated kiss. As soon as he registers what’s happening, he moans, twisting his fingers into the soft fabric of Wonwoo’s top in an attempt to pull him as close as their positions will allow. Wonwoo grasps at his waist almost as if he’s trying to brace himself, pressing bruises into his soft sides. He nips lightly once before pulling away, lips glistening in the minimal lighting. Soonyoung is dazed for a moment, his brain taking a moment and a half to catch up. 

Before he’s able to fully do so though, Wonwoo is dipping down again, pressing his warm lips to the side of Soonyoung’s neck. The smaller shudders, a high-pitched noise falling out before he can stop himself. He can feel Wonwoo’s smirk against his skin and it’s enough to make him squirm, urging the other to continue. Wonwoo does, biting down where Soonyoung’s neck meets his shoulder and sucking on the sensitive flesh until he’s satisfied with the striking purple that blooms. 

That’s the last straw for Soonyoung, “If your shirt is still on in the next 5 minutes, I’m going to rip this shit off myself.”

Wonwoo snorts and sits up, taking the camera with him. He makes quick work of shedding his shirt, balling up the fabric and tossing it in the general direction of what looks like a hamper. Soonyoung is suddenly thanking every god he can think of for the front row seat he’s getting to Wonwoo’s absurdly toned form. From his biceps to his abs to his chest to his golden skin to those sharp eyes, he’s breath-taking.

“Like what you see?” 

Soonyoung doesn’t bother trying to hide the fact that he’s staring, hooking his index finger through one of Wonwoo’s belt loops, “How could I not?” 

The taller seems to take this as an indication to undo his pants as well. Soonyoung is by no means complaining — he’d rather get everything off _now_ so they can get to the good part. Good things come to those who wait or something. 

When they’re off, it becomes abundantly clear to Soonyoung that Wonwoo’s boxer-briefs leave _very_ little to the imagination, not that he minds of course. Before he can comment on it though, Wonwoo is kissing him again, a little softer this time, the kind of kiss that makes Soonyoung’s head reset. He loses himself in it a little, unconsciously pressing his hips up and against Wonwoo as best he can, seeking out any kind of friction. 

Wonwoo is clearly right there with him, bucking his hips right up against Soonyoung’s and pinning him to the bed. Soonyoung can feel exactly how big he is now and it’s enough to draw out a needy whimper. 

Before he can stop himself, the next words are out of his mouth, “Can I blow you?” 

There’s a breath of silence before Wonwoo is nodding jerkily, almost as if he’s surprised at the offer. Soonyoung takes advantage of Wonwoo’s brief lapse of focus and flips their positions, easily straddling his hips in one smooth movement. He gives a cheeky little smile before sliding down the taller’s body, letting his teeth and tongue graze over any exposed skin he can reach. Besides this, he wastes no time getting eye-level with Wonwoo’s cock.

The camera is lying to the side after having been jostled in the flip of positions and Wonwoo is quick to grab it. Soonyoung is too occupied to notice, focused entirely on the task in front of him. He cups Wonwoo’s length over his boxers, sucking in a little breath of anticipation as it twitches against his palm. He glances up for permission to which he’s given a little nod before tugging the fabric down just enough for Wonwoo’s dick to spring out. Soonyoung has made his rounds and he’s by no means inexperienced — regardless, Wonwoo is a little intimidating. 

Intimidation is not to be mistaken for hesitance, rather something that goes hand-in-hand with pure, unadulterated excitement. 

Soonyoung wraps his hand around the base, stroking upwards once and swiping his tongue over the tip. Wonwoo gives no indication of being affected aside from the way his thighs tense under Soonyoung’s free hand. The smaller takes this as a go ahead, sealing his lips around the head and suckling, letting the salty taste of pre-cum expand over his tongue. He gives an appreciative hum, sliding half-way down Wonwoo’s cock in one go and curling his tongue around the underside. 

As odd as it was, this was one of Soonyoung’s favorite parts of sex. There was something so undeniably intoxicating about both being in control and not, having someone completely melt under your touch while still being at their mercy. 

_Click!_ The sound of the camera going off is what snaps Soonyoung out of his little trance, eyes flicking up to catch the lens. _Click!_ He’d almost entirely forgotten about the camera and lets out a soft moan causing Wonwoo to let out one of his own, his grip on the device faltering as his head tips back against the bed. The heat in Soonyoung’s gut only seems to build and he unconsciously grinds against the sheets, chasing what little hints of pleasure he can grasp. 

Soonyoung establishes a rhythm, using his hand to pump what he can’t get his mouth around. The clicks continue to sound, indicating that Wonwoo is _definitely_ paying attention. Blindly, he grasps for Wonwoo’s free hand, guiding it down and pressing it into his hair. He gives the camera a look when he pulls off to take in a deep breath, lips slick with a mixture of his own spit and Wonwoo’s pre-cum. _Click!_

He lets the tip of Wonwoo’s cock rest against his bottom lip, brain glazed over in a sickly sweet haze of lust. _Click!_ For some reason, it’s this that makes him feel shy, his cheeks flushing. There’s something so utterly obscene about the whole thing, he can’t help himself. There’s no way he doesn’t look absolutely _wrecked_ and now, there’s evidence. 

He quickly takes Wonwoo back into his mouth and sucks languidly, letting his throat relax and taking him even deeper. Wonwoo moans, finally giving Soonyoung’s hair a rough tug and sending a shot of sharp pain through his scalp. He adores it, whimpering and hollowing his cheeks in an attempt to urge the other to continue on. Wonwoo seems to get the hint, adjusting his grip before pushing Soonyoung down _hard_. His cock presses harshly against the back of Soonyoung’s throat, causing the smaller to cough weakly, mouth and throat stuffed. 

It only lasts a few moments, Wonwoo tugging him up and off as soon as he gives a little resistance. Soonyoung pants, his throat burning as he lets out another hard cough. Wonwoo has set the camera aside, looking a little concerned as the harsh grip in his hair turns into gentle pets. He looks as though he’s about to say something before Soonyoung is surging up, connecting their lips once again. 

The taste of Wonwoo is still on Soonyoung’s tongue and there’s something utterly filthy about the way Soonyoung licks into Wonwoo’s mouth. 

Once they part, Soonyoung is speaking, putting on the most pleadomg look he can muster, “Fuck me?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Wonwoo groans and lets his head fall back against the pillow before looking back up, “Yes, yes, of course. Get the stuff and ride me?”

Soonyoung grins and gives Wonwoo’s chest a little pat, moving so they can both kick off their boxers before hooking his legs around Wonwoo’s hips once again, “What a pillow princess,” he teases, grabbing the condom and bottle of lube off of the nightstand and hoisting himself and Wonwoo up into a sitting position, “But I’m gonna need you like this.” 

The camera is now pressed between their two bodies. Wonwoo’s nose brushes against his own, warm breath fanning across his lips in little puffs. Now that Wonwoo is this close, he notices the flush on the younger’s cheeks and the way it seems to travel and expand over his chest. It’s endearing. He doesn’t fully realize he’s staring until the pop of the lube opening sounds and he feels Wonwoo’s slick fingers against his entrance, the coldness causing him to tense. 

That’s when Soonyoung processes the warm hand sliding up and down his waist soothingly. Wonwoo leans in close to his ear, nipping on his lobe gently before murmuring, “Relax for me, princess.” 

And just like that, Soonyoung is jelly. Wonwoo slips one finger into him easily. It’s too early for it to feel like anything other than slightly uncomfortable but Soonyoung is impatient and excitable, rocking against Wonwoo’s hand in a weak attempt to hurry things along. Wonwoo seems to be right there with him, pressing in a second finger with little resistance. 

It takes a few moments but Soonyoung’s breath begins to hitch as his eyes droop, forehead falling against Wonwoo’s broad shoulders as he’s opened up slowly. The beginnings of pleasure are pricking up his spine, brain jumbled and body pliant. He clenches around the fingers unconsciously, cock twitching between their tummies as he heaves out stuttered breaths. He’s only brought back to partial coherence by Wonwoo’s deep voice, words wrapped in dark chocolate. 

“So good for me, so gorgeous,” Soonyoung registers, a soft whimper falling from his lips as the praise settles warmly in his chest, “I’m going to add one more finger, baby, okay?” 

He nods against Wonwoo’s shoulder, not wanting to pull himself from the grounding darkness he’s submersed himself in. 

“Words, please,” the voice coaxes him patiently. 

“Y-yes,” he finally says, words a little muffled, “Hurry. Want you n-now.”

That’s all the confirmation Wonwoo seems to need because a third finger is joining the initial two. Soonyoung moans properly now, the stretch feeling wonderfully familiar. He thinks he could get off just like this; fucking himself back on Wonwoo’s fingers as Wonwoo watches. It’s only when his moans grow louder and a little more needy that the taller pulls out, earning a loud, disapproving whine. 

Soonyoung finally pulls away, cheeks a deep pink and skin glazed over in a thin sheen of sweat. His lips are kiss bitten and swollen and his hair sticks to his forehead. He’s positive he looks absolutely debauched. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide, obscuring any last remnants of brown, and intent on his own. 

When Wonwoo looks at him like _that_ , like he’s a puzzle to be solved or a piece of art to be picked apart (or, on a separate note, perhaps like he’s the very last good thing in this city), Soonyoung knows he’s done for. 

No words need to be shared between the two; Wonwoo is handing over the reigns. 

Soonyoung tears open the condom with his teeth, reaching between them and quickly sliding it onto Wonwoo and being generous with the lube. He then rises slightly and wraps his small hand around Wonwoo’s cock, pressing the blunt head to his entrance. It takes a little maneuvering but when Wonwoo finally slips into him, he’s digging his nails into the other’s bicep as he’s split open. The stretch is a little harsh, making Soonyoung squeeze his eyes shut as he lets out a guttural groan. Wonwoo is watching him carefully, searching his face for any other signs of discomfort as he seats himself down the length slowly. He’s rubbing soothing little circles into Soonyoung’s hips. It’s appreciated. 

Once fully seated in Wonwoo’s lap, he lets out the breath he’d been holding. He’s so _full_ he can’t think about anything but the pulsing dick nestled damn near perfectly up against his prostate. There’s almost silence between the two of them as Soonyoung’s body adjusts and desperately tries to reel himself back in from the edge, the only sound being the soft humming of Wonwoo’s heat jumping to life. 

“Okay, princess?” Wonwoo checks in, voice strained but laced with genuine concern nonetheless.

Soonyoung nods and speaks, shaky but clear, “Yeah. More than okay. Good. Just — fuck, give me a second.” 

Wonwoo slides one hand over onto the small of Soonyoung’s back, letting it rest atop the bottom of his spine. It’s a comforting weight, neither imposing nor overwhelming; a welcome presence. He uses the other to brush Soonyoung’s hair off his forehead. Gentle, gentle, _gentle_. 

When Soonyoung’s heart clenches, he decides it’s time to move, mustering his strength and lifting himself up, leaving only the head inside of him. The drag of Wonwoo’s cock against his walls makes his eyes roll back, a small hiss leaving his lips. He mentally thanks years of dance for strengthening his thighs because that may be his only saving grace right now. 

He can feel Wonwoo’s eyes on him, just as he had when they were at the lounge. Piercing, burning into his skin as though he were trying to commit every detail, every breath to memory. 

That itself prompts him to sink down, quickly and graceless, filling himself to the brim in one smooth motion. He tosses his head back and curses alongside Wonwoo who’s currently attempting to find his balance. If he wasn’t so distracted with how utterly _full_ he feels, he would notice how the camera is clunky and uncomfortably situated. Wonwoo, thankfully, takes it off and sets it aside without real thought. 

“I feel like you’re in my stomach,” Soonyoung jokes breathily, almost as if the air has been punched out of him, “Fuck, Wonwoo.”

It’s not until he makes that comment that Soonyoung glances down between their bodies, noting not only his neglected dick but something different and entirely more interesting. It takes a second for him to process just what he’s looking at but when he does, his eyes widen. When he glances back up, Wonwoo is staring as well, seemingly having caught on. 

“Is… is that—?”

Soonyoung swallows and nods, “I think so.” 

Right above Soonyoung’s groin, his belly protrudes just slightly, in line with the curve of Wonwoo’s cock. If Soonyoung thought he was turned on before, Wonwoo seems to be completely entranced, eyes never leaving the little bulge. 

Without Soonyoung having to ask, Wonwoo is gripping his hips and taking some of the strain off of his legs. With Wonwoo’s added support, he manages to lift himself and drop once again, watching the way the bulge disappears before reappearing as he catches himself right before his legs melt beneath him. The ache in his thighs is irrelevant, this new tidbit at the forefront of his mind. With a few more tries, it becomes easier to establish somewhat of a rhythm. Simultaneously though, it grows harder to stay in control as with every time Soonyoung slides down, Wonwoo’s cock pushes right against that sweet spot.

Soonyoung never really took himself for someone who was loud in bed nor much of a size queen but Wonwoo is quickly helping him discover plenty of things about himself he’d never previously given much thought.

Rolling his hips down against Wonwoo’s own, he whines high in his throat. Wonwoo takes this as an opportunity to press his hand over his abdomen, feeling for himself as Soonyoung’s stomach seems to push against his palm with every roll. However, Soonyoung’s rhythm starts to falter as his legs grow more tired and it becomes difficult to actually support himself. He relaxes momentarily, settling on Wonwoo’s lap, weakly rocking himself back on the cock still buried deep inside of him. 

“Here, let me,” Wonwoo says, the second sentence to have come out of his mouth since his initial check up. 

With surprising ease, he lifts Soonyoung up and off his cock before laying him down against the bed. Soonyoung does not let this happen without complaint, not wanting to be empty for any longer than he’s already been. Not when he’s so close. He’s just about to let Wonwoo hear all about it when the taller is over him and pushing into him with one solid thrust. 

The pace begins languid, Wonwoo’s gaze zeroed in on his belly again. From this angle, the shape of Wonwoo’s dick becomes even more obvious. The sight paired with the achingly slow movements pulls out loud moans as Soonyoung drags his fingernails up Wonwoo’s back. 

It soon becomes clear though that whatever self-restraint Wonwoo is clinging onto begins to waver and change into something more primal. He begins to snap his hips forward at an ever quickening pace, fucking into Soonyoung with vigor. Soonyoung drops one hand to the sheets, grasping at them as if they are the only thing keeping him anchored down. Wonwoo grabs his wrist and pins it above his head, pressing him down into the bed. 

“Wish I could photograph you like this,” Wonwoo says hoarsely, words slurring together slightly, “You look so fucking good taking my cock. Like you were made for it.” 

Soonyoung is completely gone at this point, beyond the point of coherency. His blushing, untouched cock is still curving against his belly, demanding attention and receiving none. It doesn’t matter at this point anyways; Soonyoung is perfectly content to let Wonwoo have his way with him. Hell, he’ll give Wonwoo whatever he wants. 

In a bold move, Wonwoo pulls Soonyoung’s hand down and over his stomach, forcing him to feel every deep thrust for himself. 

There’s little preamble or warning when Soonyoung comes. It hits him like a ton of bricks and out of left field, one second he’s begging Wonwoo to fuck him _harder, faster_ and the next he’s spilling over himself like a teenager with no self-control. Regardless, it’s blinding and bursts through his entire body, mouth slack and hips jerking weakly as he presses down on the swell of his belly. He’d have half a mind to be embarrassed if Wonwoo wasn’t right there with him, letting out a soft groan as he spills into the condom. He fucks Soonyoung through both of their orgasms, pressing kisses along his throat and collarbone as though he’s trying to ease the heat from Soonyoung’s skin. 

There’s something so deeply intimate about watching someone come down from this kind of high, to see a person strung out raw and intensely _present_. At this moment, Soonyoung thinks he’s beginning to really appreciate photography. Who wouldn’t, given the chance, choose to preserve beauty like this? Fleeting, painfully so, but strikingly vivid.

Soonyoung realizes he’s fading away when Wonwoo gently pulls him back into the moment with a kind question, “Was that okay?” 

“What do you think?” His response may have been more ominous if he didn’t have a dopey smile on his kiss-bitten lips, “Because I think it was beyond okay.”

Wonwoo huffs out a laugh and takes this as a good time to delicately pull out of Soonyoung. His rim feels a little sore and the drag only seems to overstimulate but it’s over quickly, thankfully. Wonwoo kisses his wrist in lieu of an apology before rolling off to the side and disposing of the condom. 

“Be right back,” Wonwoo says before getting off the bed and slipping from the room. 

Only when he doesn’t quickly return does Soonyoung begin to worry, sitting up and looking around blearily as he tries to clear the cloudiness from his head. Maybe he had been expecting too much. Maybe this was his cue to get the hell out of here. He tries to shake off the ugly insecurity, clawing at the edges of his thought as he returns to a semi-lucid state of mind.

Just as he’s about to call out, Wonwoo is reentering with a wet cloth in hand and a new pair of boxers. The taller smiles upon seeing him, climbing onto the bed and situating himself beside Soonyoung. 

“Is it okay if I—“ Wonwoo holds up the cloth, “Unless you want to do it yourself! I just— you know, figured you were tired and all.”

Soonyoung doesn’t need to give it much thought. He only stretches out and yawns, blinking up at Wonwoo as he speaks, “‘M tired. You do it.”

Wonwoo, like the gracious host he is, happily obliges.

—————————–

The room is pitch black aside from the soft glow of the moon filtering through the thin drapes and the bathroom nightlight. The time on the nightstand reads 4:42am. The only indication that Wonwoo has finally drifted off into sleep are his soft, even breaths. This is when Soonyoung finally pulls himself from the comfortable and warm sheets, blindly feeling around the floor with his feet for his pants. Thankfully, everything had been tossed in a similar direction and it didn’t take very long for him to pull himself back together.

Soonyoung gives one, final glance to his handsome, slumbering stranger. He considers leaving a note but quickly decides against it, knowing nothing good can come of it. As nice as this evening was and as wrong as it feels to just leave, Soonyoung knows how these things usually go. He wasn’t one to overstay his welcome and so he doesn’t. 

Instead, he smooths the duvet back over into its intended position and quietly pads out of Wonwoo’s bedroom. 

When he re-enters the living room, the cat is perched serenely atop the coat he’d discarded over Wonwoo’s couch. He kneels down and holds out his hand, the cat giving him a little sniff and meow before standing and stretching. Unable to help himself, he slides his hand over her back once before she’s hopping off the couch and trotting in the direction of Wonwoo’s bedroom. Cute. 

He leaves long not long after. 

There was a point in time when these streets made him nervous, around when Soonyoung had initially moved into the city. There was nothing _secure_ about any place past 3am, let alone Manhattan, and yet on his walk through the empty subway, he can’t help but feel giddy. He didn’t know why. Leaving without a note was supposed to be very conclusive; why didn’t this feel like the end? And why is he happy about it? 

When he’s finally shutting his apartment door behind him, keys jingling as he tosses them onto the kitchen island, his mind is still racing. He tries to swallow it down and manages to do so until a little black business card is falling out of his back pocket as he sheds his clothes for bed; he’d almost entirely forgotten about it. Picking it up, he finds his eyes lingering on the number. Without thinking about it, he grabs his phone and punches it into his contacts under a little camera emoji. 

He stares at the contact for several moments before hitting the message icon and even so, he spends several more moments watching the little blue line blink. All of this is against his better judgement and he knows he really should probably leave the whole thing alone — let their memorable evening stay just that: a memory. Ridiculously enough though, Soonyoung kind of hates that idea. 

Perhaps he’s a little insane for even assuming that Wonwoo may feel the same way, feel that there’s something worth pursuing but if he didn’t, why would he leave the card? To tease? After all, who wouldn’t be a little insane after an encounter like that? Though the universe can be cruel, it does not make mistakes. 

How is Soonyoung expected to move on from the only thing that’s made him feel alive in months? 

For once, there seems to be a clear answer: he doesn’t. There’s no reality where he can simply leave it alone.

So, he punches out a text. Something short, sweet, and self-explanatory, right to the point as all of their exchanges have been. 

_So about those pictures…_

**Author's Note:**

> if i am to suffer and die in capitalist dystopia, i should have the right to make it my kink. 
> 
> i hope everybody enjoyed reading this! i spent a lot of time on the fence about even posting this tbh. it was a rollercoaster to write. some days i kinda hated it, some days i wasn’t super mad. it’s also worth noting this was supposed to be a part of an extended universe but i’m still really unsure about whether i like it or not lol. i’m still kind of flabbergasted that this … well, extended piece of porn turned out as long as my genuinely plotty fics but i guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles, babey. 
> 
> also this was 100% inspired by that one home run wonwoo suit with the glasses. a+. 10/10. i may be a lesbian but boy do i love a man in a suit vest. 
> 
> ok toodles. 
> 
> talk to me on [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/sapphoshic)!


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